


A Game We Don't Play

by Spike_1790



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Biting, Bloodplay, Dom/sub, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spike_1790/pseuds/Spike_1790
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy learns the hard way about Riley’s little vamp addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Game We Don't Play

Buffy made Riley feel weak. She never understood just how much she emasculated him. Her strength, her power, surpassed his without her even needing to try. He had worked all his life to be the perfect soldier, to be strong, to be in command. But she had taken all that away from him. The Initiative was gone, blown up by her friends. He had become a traitor because of her, sold out his beliefs in exchange for a place in her life, the thirty pieces of silver for Judas. Even when they were in bed, she had the power- his orgasms ripped from him by her preternaturally strong muscles, making him have to work harder to please her.

How could he ever be enough? Next to her previous lovers, he paled in comparison. Next to _Angel_ , he paled in comparison. And maybe that was just what she needed - someone as strong as her, someone that could give her what she needed. Someone like Angel; hell, even Spike would make a better boyfriend for her.

Spike. The bleached moron. A callous, evil _thing_ with the body of a demigod. Yes, Riley could admit that he had looked. Spike needed to be monitored. Riley did just that. During the day, when Spike was asleep, Riley made a point of checking the crypt. He didn’t know what he was looking for- evidence of foul play, whatever that looked like in a town like Sunnydale - but he kept going back to check. And it gave him something to do. There wasn’t much left for him in Sunnydale, except the regimented tasks he gave himself.

Sometime between the first fight with Buffy and one of the countless others, Riley had taken to patrolling. Daylight raids, he told himself. He systematically found nests during the day, when the nasties were asleep, and burned them down, blew them up or tore them apart. When he was done with the first cemetery, he’d move onto the next. The first time his campaign of cathartic destruction had brought him to Spike’s cemetery, Riley had wanted to kill Spike out of principle.  To spite Buffy, even though he _knew_ she would never touch the vampire. No, he just hated what Spike was, what he represented; he was Angel’s family.

But when he saw Spike’s sleeping form, the pale skin in stark contrast to the black satin sheets, Riley found he was unable to raise the stake to finish the job. There was something about Spike’s face that made him pause for a second too long. It was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. When Spike slept, he looked so young. He looked like the innocent he once was. And looking at Spike’s face had led to Riley’s eyes drifting lower, to the muscled chest, the tightly pebbled nipples, further down to the firm abs, the six-pack dusted with a light trail of dark blonde hair that disappeared under the black sheets.  

Riley had left, retreating silently up the ladder and out into the safety of sunlight, leaving Spike to live. The second time, he’d promised himself that Spike would die, but once again, he had caught himself staring at the slender blonde. The way the soft candle light flickered over the alabaster skin, the way the sheets tented at Spike’s groin… Riley had almost reached out, part of him curious to stroke the marble hardness, to see what it would look like under his fingers, how it would feel.

Riley had never seen the need to ask or tell before. His relationship with Buffy, and with the casual girlfriends he’d had before her, were proof enough of his sexuality. The men he fought alongside and worked with were just that to him - colleagues. Not once had he ever wanted to experiment, or ‘find himself’. The temptation just wasn’t there for him. Until Spike.  

The first time Riley let himself get bitten was a revelation. It was a rush, an orgasmic climb towards ecstasy and a mind-blowing moment of clarity. With her fangs sunk deep into his arm, that vampire could have been anyone. When Riley closed his eyes, he imagined that it was short, peroxide blonde hair that he was running his fingers through, that when he looked down he would see piercing blue eyes staring back at him. But when the fangs withdrew, and Riley opened his eyes again, he found only disappointment. He staked her out of guilt and shame, and made another promise that _tomorrow_ he would dust Spike.

There was a problem when it came to systematically executing the demon population, which Riley found out firsthand, very quickly. The bite houses had blacklisted him, thanks to his connection with the slayer and her band of demon hunters, and the free-lance vampires who he could have gone to were dead by his own stake. His options were now severely limited.

And he was getting desperate. Nothing else gave him the buzz he got from a bite. Sex didn’t satisfy anymore, nothing did. The frustration built up inside him, until he lashed out again, killing again, creating a violent catch-22.  Watching Spike sleep progressed to beating Spike up on patrol before hurrying home to ineffectually beat off until he reached a disappointing climax. And that was what planted the seed of an idea in Riley’s mind.

~~~~

“What’s in it for me?” the blonde asked, naturally suspicious, given how much the soldier hated him.

“Fresh, human blood, straight from the vein.”

“And a blinding migraine. Don’t think I’ll be taking your oh so generous offer, thanks,” Spike told him, the sarcasm dripping icily between the two men, echoing off the damp walls of the crypt.

“I’ll make the cut. I just need you to drink.” Riley could see the decision being made in Spike’s mind. The reflected curiosity. That would be all it took for Spike - curiosity. Riley knew he had the vamp where he wanted him. “Meet me at the old high school tomorrow as soon as it gets dark enough.” He turned on his heel, walking away from Spike. As he neared the door, he stopped. “Tell Buffy about this conversation, and I’ll kill you. Tell anyone, I’ll kill you. If you don’t show up tomorrow, I’ll torture you until you’re begging me to kill you. Got it?” Riley left before Spike could reply.

~~~~

Spike wandered the corridors of Sunnydale High, following the scent of the soldier. His nose led him past rows of partially destroyed classrooms towards the library, the place where the Hellmouth opened. Spike growled. He had a horrible feeling that this was nothing more than a set up, an excuse for Riley to kill him, but curiosity always got the better of him.

One door was hanging half way off its hinges, an unfortunate victim of the explosion. Spike crept in, but was shocked by what he saw. Candles - hundreds of candles, creating a soft, warm glow.  In the midst of the destruction, they created an oddly romantic atmosphere.  Blankets were spread over the floor, away from the crack in the floor that Spike was sure led all the way down to hell. Soft pillows were carefully arranged on the blankets, making the whole scene seem more inviting, like he was meeting a lover rather than an enemy. A bottle of champagne rested against one of the pillows, and a large box of chocolates against another. It all screamed romance. It was… exactly the sort of thing Spike went for.

Riley stepped out of the shadows. No words were said; he simply lay on the blankets and motioned for Spike to join him. Spike sat down warily, jumping when Riley leaned over him to pick up the champagne bottle. The pop of the cork was loud in the quiet room, and a few bubbles escaped the rim of the bottle, fizzing softly as they tricked over Riley’s hand. He held the hand up and let Spike lick the sweet alcohol off his skin. He handed Spike the bottle, letting the vampire take a swig of the warm liquid before capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, chasing the traces of champagne in Spike’s mouth. Spike kissed back, much to his own surprise.

Spike closed his eyes, not bothering to open them when the kiss broke. When another dribble of champagne hit his lips, he opened his mouth, choosing to enjoy the luxury of having someone seduce him. Later, tomorrow maybe, he would question it - if he wasn’t dust. Riley traced the outline of Spike’s lips with a piece of chocolate from the now open box. There was something addictive in the vampire’s kiss, and Riley wanted more. He wanted to chase the flavours of champagne and chocolate, and eventually his own blood, around Spike’s mouth until all traces of it were gone, consumed by their passion. The chocolate was nearly melted by the time it made its way into Spike’s mouth.

They kissed again, this time bringing hands into play, removing clothing and grasping at each other in an attempt to increase their own pleasures. Riley pushed Spike backwards until the vampire was lying down. Spike felt vulnerable and unsure, and for some reason, that just kicked his arousal up another level. It was a heady experience, being controlled like that.

When Riley pulled a short knife from under one of the pillows, Spike was momentarily thrown. His whole body screamed for him to stop playing and get the hell out of dodge, but _something_ made him stay. Riley trailed the knife down Spike’s torso, nicking the skin in some places, causing tiny beads of borrowed blood to well up. Spike’s eyes closed again, the danger becoming part of the thrill. The knife stopped at his groin, and Spike barely had time to miss the feeling of the cold steel on his flesh before the rich scent of human blood filled the air and his eyes snapped open. Riley had cut a neat line at the crook of his arm. Before the blood could be wasted, Spike vamped out and latched on, swallowing hungrily.

Riley felt the bliss wash over him. It was ecstasy. It was better than anything he had ever felt, including the other bites he’d indulged in. This was Spike, drinking from him. It might have been the knowledge that his life was in the hands of a caged animal, or the idea that he was getting his fantasy after weeks of wanting, or maybe just that the wait had made the feeling all the more sweet, but this was the most amazing sensation ever. The slow drag of blood through his veins, the feeling of Spike’s mouth on his arm, the occasional graze of razor sharp fangs over his skin, all brought him to the peak of arousal.

Spike looked up, a thin trail of sticky blood dribbling down his chin. “She’s watching,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down Riley’s spine. Spike could hear the slayer’s heavy heartbeat and her harsh, uneven breathing. He could tell that she was torn between anger and hurt, staying to watch and running away.

Riley didn’t care. All that mattered was that Spike took just one more mouthful, one more pull of blood through his veins. He did, and Riley let the orgasm wash over him, pleasure snapping down his spine. His release shot from his body, coating both himself and Spike. Spike raised his head from the crook of Riley’s arm, licking over the wound to catch the final drops of crimson liquid.

Riley laid back, his heart pounding from the exertion of his orgasm. He was aware of Spike settling down next to him, and the steady, familiar sound of hand on cock. Spike moaned softly. That was what helped make up Riley’s mind. Seducing Spike into biting him was one thing, but now he wanted to make Spike feel as good as Spike had made him feel.

Dipping his head, he caught the tip of Spike’s erection in his mouth and sucked gently. Spike’s hips jerked upwards, and he swore softly, hands going to Riley’s hair to guide the movements. Emboldened by Spike’s reaction, he took in more, setting a steady rhythm and suction. Spike began to shake with need, and started up a litany of praise and curses.  

“Yeah, such a good little cocksucker. Take it in… yeah… swallow me down, boy. Such a good little slut…” The head of Spike’s cock bumped the back of Riley’s throat, making him gag slightly. Barely half of Spike’s cock was in his mouth, but he felt so full, his lips stretched around the thick flesh. He began working the length that didn’t fit in his mouth with his hand, enjoying Spike’s choked off moans and swearing. All too soon, he felt Spike’s thighs begin to tremble and the cock in his mouth grow impossibly harder. “No more teasing, baby. This is it. I’m so close. Oh yeah… oh fuck…” That was all the warning Riley got and all the warning he needed. When the cool, salty fluid hit his tongue, he instinctively swallowed. Spike’s orgasm seemed to go on forever, and Riley kept swallowing. No matter how hard he tried, some of Spike’s cum ended up dribbling down his chin. Spike seemed to like that, as his cock gave one final jerk and another pulse of fluid flooded Riley’s mouth.

Eventually, sated, Spike withdrew, letting his flaccid dick rest against his thigh. Riley lay back down next to the vampire, falling asleep almost immediately. Spike joined him in sleep soon after, drifting off to the soft lullaby of Riley’s deep breathing and heartbeat. Tomorrow. He’d deal with the consequences tomorrow.

~~~~

Buffy wiped away the tears and slipped the stake back into her pocket. Following Spike had been a bad idea. He’d looked suspicious, though, and she had wanted to find out what he was up to. But knowledge was the price of curiosity. She just hadn’t wanted to know quite as much as she had discovered.

Later that night, a dozen crypts across various Sunnydale cemeteries were set ablaze, as well as a handful of abandoned buildings that had been housing vampires and demons. For some reason, she couldn’t quite bring herself to destroy Spike’s crypt. Although, she thought, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t destroy Spike himself. Spike would pay for what he did, that much she was sure of.

  



End file.
